Black As Midnight
by eena-angel2001
Summary: NEW PART UP!! HP/BTVS, A new evil rises, transcending the line between Muggle and Wizarding Worlds, and forcing our heroes to join if they wish to survive.
1. Prologue

Title: Black As Midnight  
  
Author: eena_angel2001  
  
Email: igrewal@sfu.ca or eena_angel@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: R  
  
Category: HP/BTVS/ATS  
  
Pairing: Willow/Oliver Wood, Dawn/Draco, others undetermined.  
  
Disclaimer: Rowlings owns HP. Whedon owns BTVS.  
  
Spoilers: Up to Season Seven for BTVS, but before Willow comes back. GOF for HP.  
  
Summary: A new evil rises, transcending the line between Muggle and Wizarding Worlds, and forcing our heroes to join if they wish to survive.  
  
Notes: This is an AU Season Seven fic.  
  
1) Willow did not kill Warren, though Tara did die and she did go to England with Giles. Warren is dead for this fic, but I'm still working out how.  
  
2) Fred and Gunn never dated in this fic.  
  
  
  
Prologue  
  
  
  
***Istanbul, Turkey***  
  
  
  
She ran.  
  
They were behind her, gaining speed and bearing down on her fast.  
  
And so she ran.  
  
But the problem was, she had no where to run to. It had come out of the blue, a surprise attack that blindsided her and her companion. He was now dead, still lying in a pool of his own blood in his apartment. She had found him, and then they had found her. Barely had she been able to make it out of there. And now she ran as if Hell itself were at her heels.  
  
She could hear them behind her, laughing at her panicked escape. Their laughter was like painful screeches to her ears, causing her to wince and run harder. But still, they were right behind her.  
  
She ran into a blind alley, banging on doors left and right. But no one would open their doors. No one would dare. They all knew evil was out tonight and though they pitied the girl outside, they would not risk opening their doors.  
  
She was alone.  
  
A blind terror gripped her senses, causing her to stumble down the alley faster. She came to a wall, skidding to a stop. Frantically, she spun around, looking for escape. They were too close now, she would never make it.  
  
But still, the instinct for survival drove her and she made another attempt to flee. She grabbed at the nearest drainpipe, trying to climb up to the roofs for safety.  
  
But there was one waiting for her up there. And down on the ground. She looked up into the white mask of her tormentor, choking on her own sobs. She heard him chuckle, before giving her a push off the drainpipe.  
  
She fell straight to the floor, pain shooting up her back as soon as she landed. Her vision spun for a moment, leaving her disoriented for a few seconds. By the time she recovered, they had encircled her.  
  
She gave one last pitiful plea for her life, one that was laughed off. She saw the knife being produced through the folds of the robes, fear increasing to an unbelievable level. She felt hands grip her, holding her in place as the knife wielder drew closer.  
  
She shut her eyes and sent a mental apology to her mother.  
  
The knife cut through her, leaving horrible pain in its wake. She felt her own blood spill out, leaving a warm trail over her pinned arms. They were still laughing as she started to fade from this world. Her head rolled to the side and she was still.  
  
Then her eyes flashed open and the words left her mouth:  
  
"He casts the world into darkness."  
  
*****  
  
***Sunnydale, USA***  
  
  
  
A strangled cry broke from her lips, fear sending her shooting up in bed. Her eyes opened and she stared at her room in confusion as she tried to regain her breath.  
  
She pressed a hand to her forehead, feeling the sweat there. Her temples throbbed as the images from her dream flashed before her eyes. A girl, murdered in a dark alley. And the chilling last words, seemingly spoken to the dreamer.  
  
He casts the world into darkness. Who was he?  
  
Buffy Summers shook her head, climbing out of bed gingerly. Her head was still swimming from the sights of her dream, her dry throat demanding water. She made her way down to the kitchen, treading silently past her sister's door.  
  
Once downstairs, her eyes traveled to the phone, a desire coming over her. To call Giles, to tell him everything she had dreamt of. But it was early afternoon in England. Giles wouldn't be back from the Council until much later.  
  
She would just have to wait until then.  
  
*****  
  
***London, England***  
  
  
  
She stared out of the window, looking at the bright summer day before her. It was going to be one of the last. Fall was fast approaching, threatening to take the cheeriness of summer away. And then that way, the weather would match her mood.  
  
Willow Rosenburg sighed, trying to enjoy the sight before her. Giles's house, right outside London, was a beautiful estate. Green grass and a tall handsome house, it was the perfect retreat.  
  
But it wasn't enough to make her forget. She doubted that anything would ever make her forget the things that had happened to her. No, those memories would not leave her for a long time to come.  
  
She let a sigh escape her lips, eyes flickering over the landscape. She didn't even flinch when the warm hands appeared at her waist, slowly making their way to her belly to clasp her in a hug. The head on her shoulder was also no surprise, the soft pieces of blonde hair  
  
blown into her periphery no shock. Willow knew that she had these moments, when she was neither here nor there, but she always had her with her.  
  
"Tara."  
  
The name escaped her lips with a sigh, no longer elliciting tears from the redhead. There was no point in crying anymore. What's done is done, nothing to be changed about that.  
  
"You sound troubled."  
  
Willow briefly wondered whether her sanity was still intact. After all, she was conversing with her dead love, but then again, Willow wasn't the most normal person ever. Nor would she ever be normal again. No, that ship had sailed long ago.  
  
"Something's coming," she finally whispered to the spectar of her girlfriend. "I can feel it in the air. It's like this heavy gas on the wind, trying to choke the life out of everything in its path. It's not right Tara."  
  
"No, it's not," Tara sighed, pulling back from the redhead. Willow frowned at the loss of touch, turning to frown at the blonde.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked. Tara only gave her a sad smile.  
  
"Besides the fact that you're talking with a dead person?" the blonde witch laughed. Willow frowned, not liking the uneasiness in her tone.  
  
"Tara," she prompted. Her love sighed, closing her eyes in pain for a second.  
  
"All lot of things are wrong Willow," Tara finally spoke. "And the most of it being you talking to me. You can't hide in here with me anymore baby."  
  
"Why not?" Willow felt a tinge of panic. "I need to talk to you. I need to have something of you-"  
  
"You need to move on," Tara interrupted. "And you need to do it fast Willow. You were right about a few things. There is something on the wind, something that's trying to destroy life. But you were wrong about one thing Willow."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"It's not coming honey," Tara told her gravely. "It's not coming. It's already here."  
  
*****  
  
***Los Angeles, USA***  
  
  
  
She wonder what made the sun so red this day.  
  
The brunette sighed, shivering in the early morning chill. She should have had the common sense to bring a jacket with her, but no. She had left it inside. Her mind was telling her that she could simply go inside and get it, but her feet wouldn't move. Her eyes  
  
remained on the sun, wondering what made it so red.  
  
It reminded her of blood.  
  
Winifred Burkle gave another shiver, but that one more resultant of her own thoughts than the temperature. Dark things had been filtering in and out of her head for the longest time now, making her fear down at her centre. Something wasn't right about the world. Something was wrong, something was very wrong.  
  
And it was going to do some damage.  
  
Fred shook her head, chalking it up to her bitterness from the last few days. The discovery of Connor's betrayal had hurt so bad, leaving a bad aftertaste in her mouth. She couldn't believe that he had led them on a wild goose chase for months, pretending to be  
  
concerned for his father when he knew all along where Angel had been. Under the ocean, in a locked box, where Connor had put him.  
  
And Cordelia was gone. That didn't sit well with her. All the disappearances and activites as of late didn't sit well with her. Something foul was in the air, but she couldn't figure out what.  
  
She turned away from the blood red sun, turning back to the hotel doors when she heard Gunn call her name. He was worried about her no doubt, but he didn't know what was going on. He didn't feel the evil in the very earth itself, causing living things to rot and decay all over the place. He didn't notice how the sun looked like it was bleeding.  
  
She did. And she didn't know why.  
  
*****  
  
***Sunnydale, USA***  
  
  
  
She really thought Dawn hadn't heard her.  
  
But she had. And she knew why. All those things were heavy on her mind as well.  
  
The teenager sighed, rising up in her bed and officially giving up on sleep for the night. There was no point, she was getting no rest whatsoever. There was something bothering her, and it wasn't Tara like it had been for the past few months.  
  
No, this worry was new. And it was bigger.  
  
It was like this prickling on the back on her neck that made all her sense come to attention. An uneasy feeling that slowly entered her soul, causing her to be restless. And a little afraid.  
  
She knew Buffy felt it too, knew her older sister was down there trying to shake off the feeling. But that wouldn't work. This feeling was here to stay. Until they did something about it.  
  
Or something was done to them because of it. Either way, things weren't looking too good right now. And they felt downright bad. If they weren't careful, everything was going to be shot straight to hell.  
  
She only wished she knew how to stop it.  
  
*****  
  
***Los Angeles, USA***  
  
  
  
She was having those damn dreams again.  
  
The brunette gave a growl, turning over in her bed as she tried to reclaim sleep. It wasn't working. Sleep wasn't coming to her. And it had nothing to do with the shitty-ass bed she was sleeping on or the loud snoring from her lumberjack of a cellmate.  
  
No, the dreams were bugging her.  
  
The Slayer named Faith finally gave up, open eyes staring at the ceiling. Outside, the sun was was rising. She didn't have to check to know it was red. Blood red, falling into line with all the things she was seeing in her head. Bad things, all lumbering up fast upon the unsuspecting people of the world. She didn't have to be a genius to figure out all those people were in for it.  
  
Because this thing that was coming, it was coming for everyone. It was going to rip the world apart, and laugh at the chaos. It was very near, she felt like it was. Very very close. That is, if it wasn't already here yet.  
  
Faith sighed, rolled over, and shut her eyes. She refused to think on it, to worry about it. After all, it's not like it was her problem.  
  
The world wasn't her responsibility anymore.  
  
***** 


	2. Part One

Title: Black As Midnight  
  
Author: eena_angel2001  
  
Email: igrewal@sfu.ca or eena_angel@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: R  
  
Category: HP/BTVS/ATS  
  
Pairing: Willow/Oliver Wood, Dawn/Draco, others undetermined.  
  
Disclaimer: Rowlings owns HP. Whedon owns BTVS.  
  
Spoilers: Up to Season Seven for BTVS, but before Willow comes back. GOF for HP.  
  
Summary: A new evil rises, transcending the line between Muggle and Wizarding Worlds, and forcing our heroes to join if they wish to survive.  
  
Notes: This is an AU Season Seven fic.  
  
1) Willow did not kill Warren, though Tara did die and she did go to England with Giles. Warren is dead for this fic, but I'm still working out how.  
  
2) Fred and Gunn never dated in this fic.  
  
  
  
Part One  
  
***London, England***  
  
**Watcher's Council, Downtown**  
  
  
  
"What do you mean you can't reach Allen?"  
  
Rupert Giles gripped the edge of his desk tightly, closing his eyes and counting to ten in order to stop himself from tearing into the person on the phone.  
  
"That's three Watchers you've been unable to locate," he finally managed to ground out through clenched teeth. "I mean, how hard is it to find our own people damnit!"  
  
He took a deep breath, listening to the person on the phone.  
  
"I do apologize," he mumbled after a bit. Giles took off his glasses, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as he continued his conversation. He had no business yelling at the blameless young Watcher on the line, but he could not help himself. Giles felt like he was near his breaking point, but still, he had to keep it together.  
  
"I know it is not your fault . . . yes I understand . . . I do apologize for my outburst . . . But you need to find them . . . send people to their homes . . . I don't care, but send a few . . . Make sure they are heavily armed . . . I don't know what's going on . . . I know . . . thank you . . . goodbye."  
  
He hung up his phone, leaning against his desk with his head in his hands. He honestly didn't know when all this started, how such a crisis crept up on the Council without them knowing it. As it was, three Watchers unaccounted for and not a word to be heard of their  
  
charges. And to make matters worse, Quentin Travers had not been heard from since early yesterday afternoon. He had been on vacation in Germany and they were now unable to reach the Head of the Council.  
  
This was not good.  
  
"Miss! You can't go in there! Miss!"  
  
"Giles! I need to talk to you!"  
  
His head snapped up, listening to the shouts coming from outside his closed office door. One of those voices sounded a lot like Willow, something he thought impossible. The redhead had not left his house since he brought her there at the beginning of summer.  
  
He wrenched his door open, finding that the redhead was there, and involved in a little bit of a struggle with his secretary.  
  
"Mary, it's quite all right," he was quick to order. The two ladies stilled, Willow sending him a relieved look. Giles was shocked at the sight of the redhead. She must have come here on her own. She hadn't even left her room without much prodding from him. And he swore he saw something in those eyes he hadn't seen in a while. A spark, just like the Old Willow used to have. A fiercely determined spark that was likely to explode all over Mary unless she released the redhead immediately.  
  
"She just came barging in here-" Mary shrilled, releasing Willow with a glare. "Shouting up a storm! Tried to push her way in-"  
  
"I have to talk to you Giles," Willow interrupted, stepping up close to the man. "Now. We're in deep shit now."  
  
He understood her immediately, taking her by the elbow and steering her into his office.  
  
"Mary, hold my calls," he ordered over his shoulder. "And if Trevor phones back with any information, call James and Dodds to my office immediately."  
  
"Yessir," the woman agreed, shooting Willow another disapproving look before shuffling back to her desk. Giles followed Willow into his office, shutting the door behind them. He turned back to her, still marveling over the awareness he saw in her eyes.  
  
"Willow," he shook his head. "What happened?"  
  
The redhead shrugged, giving him a sad half smile that turned out like a painful grimace.  
  
"I know I've been off for the past few months," she sighed. Giles nodded. She hadn't been 'off' so much as not there at all. But that wasn't the point right now.  
  
"Giles, something is rising," she whispered suddenly, face drawn tight with tension. "I don't know what it is, but it's here and it's getting bigger as the days tick by."  
  
"Willow, did you have some sort of vision?" he approached cautiously. She shook her head.  
  
"I've been feeling it for awhile," she confessed to him. "I can almost see it in the air sometimes. It's like this smog thing, getting larger and trying to choke the life out of everything. It hasn't done much yet, but it's raring to Giles. It's planning something very big."  
  
"How-"  
  
"Tara told me," she answered simply, raising a resigned face to him. "Don't say it, I know that look. I'm not crazy Giles. I almost wish I was, but I'm not. She told me it's already here, and I believe her Giles. Whatever it is, it's already here. And it's coming."  
  
"Coming for what Willow?" he demanded. She only shook her head.  
  
"Not what Giles," she murmured, eyes getting a haunted look. "Not what. Who."  
  
"Who?"  
  
She nodded, eyes going to his phone.  
  
"Phone Buffy," she ordered lightly. "Call her now. She has something to tell you."  
  
He gave the redhead a strange look, shrugging his shoulders and picking up his phone. He tried to quell the rising fear in his stomach as he punched in the Buffy's number.  
  
Willow merely watched him, eerily calm in spite of what she had just told him. Giles swallowd hard, sighing in relief when the phone was finally answered.  
  
"Buffy? It's Giles . . ."  
  
*****  
  
**4 Privet Drive**  
  
  
  
Harry Potter grabbed at his forehead, wincing in obvious pain. The source of his pain was the jagged scar on his forehead, one that looked remarkably like a lightning bolt. A mark left on him by his parents' murderer.  
  
A murderer who was now on the loose.  
  
Harry swallowed the bit of rage he felt at that thought. Lord Voldemort had risen once more, and the Ministry of Magic sat back and did nothing. Well, Minister Cornelius Fudge sat back and did nothing. The man was too afraid of the memory of Voldemort to deal with the prospect of his return. So, they all sat back and just waited for the first blow to come.  
  
But it hadn't come. One whole summer, of relative peace. That the Wizarding world knew of anyhow. But Harry knew that Voldemort was up to something. The searing pain from his scar was proof enough for that.  
  
The Boy-Who-Lived scowled, gathering all his supplies into his trunk. He was going to stay at the Leaky Cauldron until September 1st, no longer able to stand the Dursely home. There had been some fallout with Dudley and Aunt Petunia and the continuing diet. Dudley  
  
had been cheating and subsequently been caught. The ensuing battle had been murder on his eardrums. And he was getting out now.  
  
He had called for a taxi on his own, expecting it to arrive any second. He lugged his trunk downstairs, muttering a barely audible goodbye over his shoulder. He heard some curses come from his uncle, but largely ignored them. He was out the door just in time to see  
  
the taxi pull up. He threw his luggage inside, mindful to be careful of Hedwig, and called for the taxi to pull away.  
  
His head still throbbed, but his heart was comforted knowing he was one step closer to being back at Hogwarts. Back at home.  
  
*****  
  
***Los Angeles, USA***  
  
  
  
"Fred?"  
  
The brunette stopped at the sound of her name, turning to see who had called her. The voice was faint, barely a whisper. She knew it woudln't be Gunn, whom she had sent to get breakfast earlier. The man had been happy to comply, seeing as she hadn't been eating all that much recently. So, she knew it wouldn't be him.  
  
She was startled to find Angel was the one calling her. He shouldn't have been up at this hour. It was still early morning and the vampire had only been recovered last night.  
  
"You should be resting," she scolded him. "Come on, upstairs."  
  
He waved off her attempts to pull him back upstairs. Instead, he steered both of them to the couches in the lobby, taking a seat rather tiredly. He seemed winded, face paler than usual, but still determined as he faced his friend.  
  
"I know something is bothering you," he finally managed. "Gunn has mentioned something about you being distracted all summer. And not distracted as in worried for me and Cordy, but a different distracted. What's up Fred?"  
  
She shook her head, laughing listlessly.  
  
"Nothing," she lied. "It's nothing."  
  
"You're lying," he tossed back lightly. "Now, how about the truth?"  
  
She managed a small smile for the vampire, one that faded fast from her features. Her eyes took on a scared look, a frown marred her brow, and her fingers went up to twist in her hair as she thought about what to tell him.  
  
"I don't know what it is," she finally admitted. "But something very wrong is happening. Something very wrong is here, and I can feel it."  
  
"Feel it?" Angel repeated, a frown coming to his own face.  
  
"I sometimes stand on the grass," she explained. "And then out of nowhere, I see everything withering and dying. Just for a second, and then it's gone. But I remember it, can still feel it. It's like this blackness descending on the earth, but I don't know what it is.  
  
I just feel that it's there."  
  
"How often do you get these sights?" Angel asked, voice becoming more concerned as she continued. Fred shrugged.  
  
"They started about the same time you disappeared," she admitted. "And they just happen out of nowhere. But the feeling, it never leaves Angel. It makes me think of morbid things, like death and blood. Just this morning, I was looking at the sunrise and for the life of me, I thought it was bleeding. Something very bad is coming and it won't stop."  
  
There was a tense silence, Fred wringing her hands as her friend said nothing.  
  
"Or I could be losing my mind," she quipped with a empty laugh, but feeling like it could be a possibility. Angel was quick to grab her hand, squeezing her hand.  
  
"You're not crazy," he assured her. "When I was down there, I had a lot of time to reflect too. I think I understand what you're saying, but I don't feel it like you do."  
  
"What are we going to do then?" she asked, voice barely a whisper.  
  
Angel gave her hand one more squeeze before rising and heading for the phone.  
  
"What are you doing?" she asked, voice nervous. He gave her a reassuring smile as he dialled.  
  
"I'm calling some friends," he answered soothingly. "I think it's time we all compared notes."  
  
***** 


	3. Part Two

Title: Black As Midnight  
  
Author: eena_angel2001  
  
Email: igrewal@sfu.ca or eena_angel@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: R  
  
Category: HP/BTVS/ATS  
  
Pairing: Willow/Oliver Wood, Dawn/Draco, others undetermined.  
  
Disclaimer: Rowlings owns HP. Whedon owns BTVS.  
  
Spoilers: Up to Season Seven for BTVS, but before Willow comes back. GOF for HP.  
  
Summary: A new evil rises, transcending the line between Muggle and Wizarding Worlds, and forcing our heroes to join if they wish to survive.  
  
Notes: This is an AU Season Seven fic.  
  
1) Willow did not kill Warren, though Tara did die and she did go to England with Giles. Warren is dead for this fic, but I'm still working out how.  
  
2) Fred and Gunn never dated in this fic.  
  
  
  
Part Two  
  
***Berlin, Germany***  
  
The heavy music pounded through the club, heard even down the block. It was loud, very loud, and served a very evil purpose. With all that racket, who would hear the screams?  
  
And she did scream. She screamed as loud as her lungs would let her. She screamed as she ran, turning the corner and onto the street of the club. Her heart swelled at the sight. There would be people there, with people she would be safe.  
  
But she never made it to those people.  
  
The blow came from behind, knocking her to the street. She fell forward, hands hitting the pavement. She felt her skin tear, on her palms and on her right knee. She was bleeding and now bruised. Hands were on her ankles, pulling her backwards, away from the people in the club.  
  
But still she screamed. She kicked, she clawed, she swung wildly, and she screamed. But it did her no good whatsoever. Too many of them for her to fight, far too many.  
  
She felt herself be lifted, being held upright by two of them. One stood in front of her. She stilled in her screaming, looking around her. She was in an alley. A deserted alley. There was no one to save her now.  
  
Tears started rolling down her face at that. She made no pleas, gave no more screams, but she cried silently. They just laughed at her. The one in front grabbed her by the chin, forcing her eyes upward to look at him. She took in that foreboding white mask, knowing the sneer that was underneath. The man was smirking at her, smiling at her pain. She wanted to fight all over again, but she knew it would do no good.  
  
He might have been saying something to her, but she heard none of it. The blood was roaring in her ears as she prepared herself for what was to come. She grit her teeth, refusing to back down from these men, refusing to shrink. She forced herself to stop crying, to stand with the courage her mentor had instilled in her.  
  
He was shaking his head at her, as if in pity. She reared up, spitting in his face. A smile broke over her features at that. The man wiped away the spit, hand shaking with rage. She only laughed out loud, staring defiantly at the man in front of her. He backhanded her roughly, snapping her head to the side.  
  
But she still smiled, she still laughed. She brought her head back to stare at him, fear overcoming her senses and making her giddy. Death was on the horizon for her and there was nothing left to be done. She lost her senses, sagging under the weight of her laughter. Those holding her were pulling on her arms roughly, trying to make her stand on her own again, but she was laughing too hard.  
  
The flash of steel caught her eye, slowing her giggles. She saw the one in front brandish the knife. The blood on her lip was becoming ticklish, and it was a wonder that she could only focus on such a stupid thing at this time.  
  
The knife came swinging downwards and she thought no more.  
  
*****  
  
***London, England***  
  
Hermione Granger jolted awake, eyes opening to a fuzzy vision as she tried to get her bearings. She jumped when she felt a hand brush across her forehead. Her eyes went forward, blinking when she saw her mother.  
  
"Mum?" she ventured slowly. Mrs. Granger smiled at her only daughter, though Hermione could see it was a bit strained.  
  
"You fell asleep," her mother told her, hand reaching over the backseat to caress her daughter's cheek. "Are you all right? You looked a bit tense before. Did you have a bad dream?"  
  
"I think," Hermione mumbled, eyes going out her window. She was startled to see that the car was parking outside the Leaky Cauldron. She must have slept the entire trip away. Odd, considering how well she slept the night before.  
  
The brunette shook her head, running a hand through her formerly bushy hair. She had finally relented over the summer, allowing her mother to take her to a stylist. Her hair was now permanently straightened, falling to her shoulders in layers. Her friends would be shocked no doubt. And she had been looking forward to that. It would be fun to see how Ron and Harry would be thrown for a loop at her new look.  
  
But now, she felt nothing but anxious. Her dream came back to her and she frowned. The sight of that pink haired girl, running from her captors. She wished she had gotten a better look at their faces, but she didn't. All she saw was black robes and white masks, leading her to believe that maybe the events of June were weighing heavily on her mind. She was seeing Death Eaters in her sleep now. It was almost laughable if she didn't feel so disturbed by it.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
This time it was her dad calling her. She blinked, looking confusedly at her father, who had opened her door while she was off in her thoughts. Her mother was looking more concerned than before. Hermione managed a small smile for them before sliding out of the car.  
  
"Maybe we should go with you to Diagon Alley," her dad ventured. Hermione just tossed her father a smile before shaking her head.  
  
"I'm okay," she assured him. "I was just thinking about some stuff. You guys don't have to worry. Harry's in there waiting, and the Weasleys have probably made it by now. I'll be fine."  
  
Her dad sighed, nodding before helping her lift her luggage from the trunk. She gave him a goodbye peck, hugging her mother through her open window before running into the pub with all her things.  
  
Her parents watched her go, both wondering where this strange sense of foreboding had come from. Sighing again, her father sat himself back behind the wheel and started the car again.  
  
"She'll be fine," he assured his wife immediately. She only sighed, turning to look out her window.  
  
"I know."  
  
*****  
  
***Sunnydale, USA***  
  
"And you're both having funny feeling?"  
  
Dawn nodded at Xander Harris's question. The young man frowned, turning to Buffy.  
  
"And what does the G-Man say?" he asked next. "Are we looking at funny dreams brought on by spicy Mexican foods, or portents? And please say Mexican food, I hate portents."  
  
Buffy managed a wane smile for her friend, her resigned face answer enough for him. Xander sighed, hanging his head a bit.  
  
"What are we looking at?" he wondered. "End of the world, enslavement of mankind, or whatever?"  
  
"We don't know," Buffy answered with a shrug. "Giles wasn't all of the sharing. He just got off a few 'my words' and 'dear lords' without saying much else."  
  
"There is that thing with Willow," Dawn jumped in. Xander immediately came to attention, eyes wide with fear.  
  
"What about Willow?" he demanded. "Is she okay? What happened to-"  
  
"Xander, calm down," Buffy ordered, placing her hands on his arms. She gave them a reassuring squeeze. "Willow is fine. Nothing happened to her."  
  
"Then what is Dawn talking about?" Xander threw back at her. "Look, I know I get overly whacked with stuff concerning Willow, but you have to tell me."  
  
"She's also having some feelings about it," Dawn supplied. Buffy nodded.  
  
"Giles said she's actually gotten better because of it," the Slayer continued with a small smile. "Apparently, she ran all the way to his office and had a scuffle with his secretary until she got in to see him."  
  
Xander felt a ghost of a smile curve his lips at that. He shook his head and took a deep breath.  
  
"At least she's talking again," he laughed mirthlessly. "But I like this idea of feelings and portents less. What's going on?"  
  
"I don't know," Buffy started, cutting herself off as the phone rang. She gave Xander a look before moving off to answer it. Dawn was quick to jump to his side, throwing her arms around him in a hug.  
  
"It's bad Xander," the little girl mumbled. "I know you probably don't want to hear that, but I'm not lying about it. Something very bad is happening, and we all need to be on our guard."  
  
Xander nodded, wrapping his own arms around the girl. He noticed the slight shaking of her body, cursing inwards at whatever was causing her such fear. There was this growing ball of nerves in his stomach, something he was sure they were all experiencing. This whole thing was weird and frightening.  
  
"Um guys?"  
  
Buffy's voice brought him out of his reverie. He turned to his friend, frowning at the slight paleness on her face.  
  
"What now?" Dawn asked immediately. Buffy shook her head, eyes looking slighty far off.  
  
"Angel called," she mumbled. "That girl who works with him, Fred. She's been getting the same kind of feelings too. They're really starting to scare her."  
  
"That makes it four," Dawn whispered. "How many more are there? What the hell is going on?"  
  
Xander hugged her tighter at the frantic tone in her voice. He looked at Buffy with his worry openly shining on his face. The blonde shrugged helplessly, turning back to the kitchen.  
  
"I'm calling Giles again," she tossed over her shoulder. He nodded, leading the shaking Dawn over the couch. The teenager looked at him with a frown, curiosity on her face.  
  
"Has anyone checked on Faith?"  
  
***** 


	4. Part Three

Title: Black As Midnight  
  
Author: eena_angel2001  
  
Email: igrewal@sfu.ca or eena_angel@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: R  
  
Category: HP/BTVS/ATS  
  
Pairing: Willow/Oliver Wood, Dawn/Draco, others undetermined.  
  
Disclaimer: Rowlings owns HP. Whedon owns BTVS.  
  
Spoilers: Up to Season Seven for BTVS, but before Willow comes back. GOF for HP.  
  
Summary: A new evil rises, transcending the line between Muggle and Wizarding Worlds, and forcing our heroes to join if they wish to survive.  
  
Notes: This is an AU Season Seven fic.  
  
1) Willow did not kill Warren, though Tara did die and she did go to England with Giles. Warren is dead for this fic, but I'm still working out how.  
  
2) Fred and Gunn never dated in this fic.  
  
  
  
Part Three  
  
***Los Angeles, USA***  
  
Faith bit back a snarl, resisting the urge to slam the guard escorting her into the wall very hard. He was disgusting, looking her up and down with this look in his eye. Little did he know, the second he acted on that look, she would castrate him. By hand.  
  
Instead of acting on that, the brunette Slayer bit her tongue, allowing herself to be dragged to the visiting room by the man. No unnecessary violence for this girl. If he wanted to risk it by trying anything, then all bets were off. But until then, she was Restraint Girl.  
  
B would be so proud.  
  
The thought of her counterpart made her grimace. The dreams had picked up in the last few weeks and she had the sneaking suspicion that this visit had something to do with it. The only person who ever visited her was Angel, and it was broad daylight right now. No way would the vampire be out to see her now. So that begged the question: who the hell had come to visit her?  
  
She hoped it wasn't a Watcher. Or anyone that used to be a Watcher. Those guys were really down on her like all the time. Besides, she doubted one would come to visit her anyway. They would rather sneak in here at the dead of the night and kill her. But then again, since her conviction, they seemed content to let the penal system take care of her.  
  
She waited by the door while the guard pushed it open. Once in the doorway, he motioned for her hands to come up. He secured the cuffs, giving her another leer. With her hands up and ready, Faith barely resisted the urge to clock the man. But she figured she might as well see her visitor first and deal with pervert guy later.  
  
Making her way to the booth, Faith was confused to see a slight brunette waiting for her. The girl was frail-looking, thin as a stick, with long wavy brown hair, and large innocent brown eyes. She was obviously nervous, twitching in her seat as she regarded all those around her with wide eyes.  
  
Faith took her seat, tapping on the glass to get her attention. The girl snapped to attention, eyes widening even further to see Faith there. Something seemed oddly familiar about the girl, though Faith wasn't sure what exactly. She motioned for the phone, which the girl reached for with shaking hands. Faith lifted her receiver, waiting patiently for the girl to start.  
  
She was unprepared for the first words out of her visitor's mouth.  
  
"You feel it too."  
  
There was no need to explain what "it" was. She knew, they both knew what it was. The dreams, the feelings, the overall fear growing day by day. Festering since June and almost to the boiling point now. That non- existent thing hovering over all their heads, making them antsy, paranoid, and worst of all, scared shitless.  
  
"Who are you?" Faith barked into the phone. She knew she probably shouldn't be scowling at the girl. Whoever she was, her nerves looked about shot. Being in the prison was obviously unnerving her, but she was sticking it out. Even though her eyes kept flitting to the exit with obvious desire, she stayed in her seat, defiantly looking back at the Slayer.  
  
"My name is Fred," she introduced herself. "I'm a friend of Angel's."  
  
Faith nodded, remembering the vampire mention the girl a few times. Something about her being in a demon dimension for five years. A dimension that kept humans as slaves and this girl managed to stay a fugitive for the better part of her stay. She had to be one tough bitch to survive something like that.  
  
"What is it?" was her next question. Fred shrugged, looking miserably down at the table top.  
  
"We don't know," she admitted. "I just came to see if you had seen anything and now that I know you have, I'm not sure what we're doing next. We're trying to sort this out, bit by bit, but nothing adds up."  
  
"Because no one knows what the big bad is," Faith finished for her. Fred nodded wordlessly, twitching in her seat once more.  
  
"What do you see?" the girl ventured.  
  
Faith sighed, rubbing her eyes as she thought over the dreams that had been plaguing her for months.  
  
"Recently, I saw this girl being hunted down," the Slayer shrugged. "She was Mid-Eastern, purple shirt, being chased down an alley. Bastards in white masks knifed her. They didn't look like demons, so I didn't think too much of it."  
  
"Humans aren't all that innocent either," Fred reminded her.  
  
"Preaching to the choir honey," Faith laughed. "What do you want from me?"  
  
"How about some caring?" Fred snapped. "You're entirely too laid back about this. Something bad is coming-"  
  
"And it's not my problem anymore," Faith finished for her. "Look honey, even if I wanted to help, I couldn't. I'm in jail. I killed people."  
  
"But what's coming, don't you think you should help?"  
  
"Again, I can't," Faith rolled her eyes. "Sorry, but I'm not one of the good guys anymore. I'm atoning now and some stuff-"  
  
"Well, don't you think being a good guy again counts for atonement?" Fred asked her incredulously. "Have you learned nothing from Angel?"  
  
"Look, honey-"  
  
"No, you look!" Fred looked irritated beyond hell. "You're going to listen to me! There is something out there, and whether you like it or not, it affects you! It is coming for all of us, and it's not planning on making friends. It wants nothing but death and decay. I've seen it, it's soaking down into the earth and making life wither away. And if you think being in this prison means you're safe, you're not only wrong but dumb as hell!"  
  
Faith watched the girl with wide eyes. Gone was the nervous, twitching Fred from before. This Fred was strong and a blaze with fire. Faith was almost frightened and almost swayed.  
  
Almost, but not quite.  
  
"You're barking up the wrong tree," she replied into the phone after a long pause. "I'm sorry, but I can't do anything from here."  
  
"And if you were out of here?" Fred asked. "If all those people you wronged got you out? If Angel asked you to come and help, what would you do Faith?"  
  
Faith paused, thinking it over. She looked up into Fred's wide eyes, feeling a smirk come over her features. There was something stirring in her stomach, something she hadn't felt in a few years. And it felt surprisingly good. She smiled at the girl, tossing her a quick wink.  
  
"If they need me, all they have to do is come and get me."  
  
*****  
  
***Malfoy Manor, England***  
  
He couldn't get any fucking sleep!  
  
Draco Malfoy felt a scowl crease his forehead. He turned in his bed, twisting so his head was underneath his pillow. He pulled it tight over his head and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force sleep unto himself. But then those images started coming right back and Draco's eyes flew open yet again.  
  
Fuck it. Fuck it all to hell. His mother would kill him if she found out the level of vulgarity he was using, well thinking, right now. But it helped, felt good, was an outlet.  
  
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! He gripped his pillow in his hands, hearing the fabric rip as he pulled it apart. Fuck it all!  
  
There, he felt better. Swearing and a little violence were good for a person. They kept a guy sane. He honestly didn't know why his mother was so against either of it. After all, it's not like his family was the nicest one on the block. His father followed the bloody Dark Lord for Merlin's sake. He couldn't figure out why she accepted that but didn't allow her son to vent some times.  
  
Draco brushed a feather away from his face, throwing the remains of his tattered pillow to the floor. He sat upright, glaring at his room in the dark of the night. He really needed to get some sleep tonight. He was heading to Hogwarts in the morning. Another year of having to put up with Potter, Weasley, and that damn Granger. But on the other hand, another year of seeing Snape terrorize all the bloody gits.  
  
That thought cheered him up, though humour fled him quickly. His mind went back to the dreams he had been having over the past few months. They were disturbing to say the least. He had to put up with them all summer long. He didn't dare to tell his parents, fearing his father's scorn for being frightened by some dreams. And if he found out what the dreams were about as well, then he'd have Draco's neck.  
  
After all, what future Death Eater should be put off by some blood and torture?  
  
But that was Draco's problem with it. It wasn't some, it was a lot. And it wasn't adding up to anything good for anyone.  
  
The blonde bit his lip, mulling over the past few months. Stupid dreams. They wouldn't let him have any peace. What should he care about some girls somewhere, being killed one after the other? Why should he care that he felt a fear surrounding people, Muggles and Wizards alike? He knew what it was, or rather who it was. The Dark Lord had returned, Potter had seen him with his own eyes. And as much as he hated Potter, he knew the boy wouldn't make up such a story about Voldemort. That meant it was all real.  
  
He could guess though, from his father's behaviour. Lucius was always off somewhere, skulking about and prying deeper in the Dark Arts than before. His mother was quiet all the time, looking at her husband in more fear than love nowadays. And he knew how she felt. His dad looked downright mad at some points during the summer. Draco was doing everything he could to ignore him. And ignore the blasted dreams.  
  
He didn't care. That's all he had to keep telling himself. It had nothing to do with him. He certainly hadn't shed tears over those girls dying alone, surrounded by those cruel men. No, he hadn't shed a tear. He never once hid wet pillows from his servants and mother, not once. They didn't bother him in the least. None of his business you see.  
  
Yeah right.  
  
Draco sighed again, falling backwards onto his bed. His eyes went to the ceiling, glaring at it viciously. He didn't like these dreams, or these feelings. He wanted them to go away. He didn't want to spend any more nights haunted by the fear in the eyes of all those girls. And he really didn't want to hear that man scream any more.  
  
Draco growled as his thoughts traveled over to the man. He didn't want to think on him, the dreams revolving around him worse than usual. True, he hadn't seen him in a long time, but that didn't make any of the memories any easier to handle. Whoever the man was, he was being tortured horribly. Draco often spent nights with the man's heart-wrenching screams resounding in his head. Those dreams were sure to draw tears from the boy. The pain was just too much! Why couldn't they let him go already? It had been months. Months!  
  
Draco snarled, throwing his covers over his head. He wasn't getting anywhere with all this mess. He just wanted to get some bloody sleep! Was that too much to ask?  
  
He sighed again, settling down into his bed. He stared up at his ceiling until his eyes began to droop. Left with no other choice, the boy fell to sleep and the horrible dreams once more.  
  
*****  
  
***London, England***  
  
*Scratch, scratch, scratch*  
  
Willow frowned, looking up from her computer. That was the second time she had heard that damn noise. She looked around Giles's living room, trying to find the source of the noise.  
  
When she found none, she got to her feet. She wandered out of the room, ears stretched in vain to find the source of the noise. She knew it wasn't Giles. The man was still at the Council's headquarters, desperately trying to track down Quentin Travers. Willow didn't know exactly was happening among the Watchers, but she knew it wasn't anything good.  
  
And she knew that the dark feeling was responsible for it.  
  
*Scratch, scratch*  
  
There it was again! She whirled around, becoming slightly annoyed. The redhead flounced into the entrance hall, skidding to a stop by the staircase. She went stone still, hearing the noises louder than before. She looked over her shoulder, peering at the front door. They were becoming from outside.  
  
Willow narrowed her eyes, stepping back from the staircase slowly. She focused on the door, cautiously moving closer. She opened the peephole, but saw nothing. However, as she got closer to the door, the scratching increased.  
  
She looked about her, eyes falling on an axe in the living room. She ran quickly, scooping up the weapon before running back to the door. She tok a deep breath, unlocking the door and wrenching it open.  
  
Her axe was brought up immediately, though no real threat met her eye. She looked out in the empty night at first, confused until she heard the coughing at her feet. Shocked, she looked down and was horrified by what she saw there.  
  
He was a bloody mess. Clothes torn, shirt nothing more than scraps clinging to his back as a result of all the blood caked there. He was practically sprawled out on Giles's front steps, barely able to raise his fingers to make the scratching noises that dragged her there. There were bruises, cuts, and marks on very piece of skin she could see. He wasn't making any sense, nothing but mumbles coming from his mouth. He looked like a shell of a person, barely recognizable as a man under all that blood and gore.  
  
But she recognized him on sight.  
  
"Spike!"  
  
***** 


	5. Part Four

Title: Black As Midnight  
  
Author: eena_angel2001  
  
Email: igrewal@sfu.ca or eena_angel@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: R  
  
Category: HP/BTVS/ATS  
  
Pairing: Willow/Oliver Wood, Dawn/Draco, Faith/Sirius Black, Fred/Remus Lupin, Should I bother with a Buffy pairing?  
  
Disclaimer: Rowlings owns HP. Whedon owns BTVS.  
  
Spoilers: Up to Season Seven for BTVS, but before Willow comes back. GOF for HP.  
  
Summary: A new evil rises, transcending the line between Muggle and Wizarding Worlds, and forcing our heroes to join if they wish to survive.  
  
Notes: This is an AU Season Seven fic.  
  
1) Willow did not kill Warren, though Tara did die and she did go to England with Giles. Warren is dead for this fic, but I'm still working out how.  
  
2) Fred and Gunn never dated in this fic.  
  
  
  
Part Four  
  
***Outside Berlin, Germany***  
  
They were coming at last.  
  
He could hear them at the door, banging and shouting for him. He didn't have the energy to call out to them. He didn't have the energy to do much. His mouth felt fuzzy, head swimming if he tried to focus on anything. And all the blood, all his own, clung to him in a horrid sticky mess.  
  
He was dying.  
  
They had come, out of nowhere, with white masks and knives. Too many times had he been stabbed and then finally left on his own to die. They had laughed in parting, thinking him too weak to do anything. They thought it would be wise to leave him be, to die alone.  
  
They were idiots.  
  
Yes, he was dying. Yes, they had succeeded in that. But he wasn't as far gone as they would have liked to think. No, he still had some fight in him when they were through. Not enough to save himself, but enough to hopefully save someone else.  
  
The door flew open, splinters cascading across the floor of his little cottage. It was his little retreat, a nice quiet place for him to be left alone with his books. Isolated, to suit his purposes. Unfortunately, it suited their purposes as well.  
  
A group of men came stumbling in, cursing and shouting in alarm at the sight of the cottage. He couldn't even lift his head to see them, instead banging his hand on the floor to get their attention. He heard the rush of footsteps, voices talking all around. Some were German, some were English, he thought he heard a bit of French as well. They were all in a panic.  
  
He was lifted a bit, placed into warm arms as others looked at his wounds. He shook his head, waving their hands away. It would do no good, he was done for. There was only one thing left to be done now.  
  
He forced his head upwards, catching the eye of the one who held him. A very young child, blonde hair and scared blue eyes. A new Watcher no doubt, no more than a year's experience in him. He looked up at this young man, grasping at his hands. He pushed the paper into his, the bloody paper he had written on just barely. It was covered in blood, but it was readable. He made sure the young man gripped it tightly.  
  
And then he struggled to speak, giving the young man the last instructions he would ever give.  
  
"Gi-Gil-Giles!"  
  
The weakness overtook him and he fell backwards. He felt himself be jostled around some more, but heard no more voices. No, he just faded into silence, thankful the end had finally come.  
  
And then Quentin Travers died.  
  
******  
  
***London, England***  
  
**Council Headquarters**  
  
"I want to know what happened to these girls, and I want to know now!"  
  
He was screaming entirely more than he used to. But no one took offence. Instead they rushed off as fast as they could, heading to phones, computers, faxes, and other communication tools, desperate to find him the answers that he wanted.  
  
Giles sighed, dropping his head into his hands as he sat at his desk. He couldn't do this, he couldn't handle all this on his own. Four Watchers from all over the world had been discovered dead in the last few hours. And all four had been in charge of one Slayer in Training each. No one could find the girls.  
  
There was too much going on, especially now with Willow. The girl had phoned him merely hours ago, informing him that she had found a bloody and bruised Spike on his doorstep. And that she had taken the vampire in. Giles had protested, but Willow cut him off. She told him in no uncertain terms that there was something wrong with Spike. And whatever it was, it was connected with this impending doom. She had only called to tell him she needed someone to run blood over to his house, so she could feed Spike. The vampire was far too weak to answer any of her questions. He had sent one of the younger Watchers, telling him to return to Headquarters immediately afterwards. Giles had no fears of leaving Willow with Spike, knowing the vampire was incapable of hurting the girl. And he really didn't have all that manpower to spare at the moment. No choice but to leave the whole mess to Willow, and try to sort things out here quicker.  
  
He rubbed his eyes tiredly, reaching for the phone on his desk. He had to phone Buffy, to see what was happening over there and in LA. To see if someone had indeed been in contact with Faith, to see what the Rogue Slayer had seen. If she had seen anything at all. But Giles had no doubt that she had. It was just a matter of determining what it was that she was seeing.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
The almost timid call from his doorway. He looked up, seeing Mary standing there nervously. Her eyes were downcast, but even he could see the sparkling of tears in them.  
  
"Mary?" he prompted, a tense tone to his voice.  
  
"They found Quentin," the woman revealed, half-sobbing her answer. Giles didn't even need to ask, sinking further down in his chair in despair. Quentin was dead.  
  
"Oh dear lord," he muttered to himself. "What is happening?"  
  
"Rupert," Mary had reassembled some calm and was addressing him again. "They say he had a message for you. Something he demanded that you see. It might be the answer."  
  
Giles nodded numbly, waving Mary into his office.  
  
"Let's have it."  
  
*****  
  
**Giles Manor**  
  
Willow shook her head, trying hard to keep her tears at bay. The redhead bit her lip, drawing in a shaky breath as she looked down at Spike. She had managed to get him into the house and onto the couch. And then she started attending to his wounds.  
  
There were so many of them. Cuts so deep, twisting and marring the vampire's once smooth skin. She had succumbed to tears at many points alongside with Spike's cries of pain. He was in so much pain, not all of it physical. He seemed to be shattered inside, not able to utter a single sensical sentence for her. He was just too weak. He needed blood.  
  
Willow gave a sigh of relief when she heard the knock at the door. She clutched Spike's hand, promising to return shortly, before jumping to her feet and racing to the door. She all but threw it open, dragging the young Watcher there in and slamming the door shut behind him. The young man stumbled, struggling to keep his hold on the container of blood he had been asked to pick up from a butcher on the way there. Willow just took that from him, pulling him along as she made her way back to Spike.  
  
"Mr. Giles requires me to return-"  
  
"I know," she cut him off, dragging him further into the room. "And you can go soon. But you have to see something first."  
  
"What is it?" the Watcher asked. He sounded nervous, body going tense at the sight of Spike on the couch. Willow gave a little growl of frustration, turning to face the Watcher.  
  
"What's your name?" she demanded.  
  
"Marcus," he sputtered, eyes never leaving Spike's prone body.  
  
"Well Marcus, stop freaking out," she ordered. "He can't hurt you, even if he was in good health. I need you to gain some control because there's something on his back I need you to see."  
  
"His back?" Marcus looked bewildered. Willow nodded, pulling him closer to the couch. Gingerly she pulled Spike up, propping him against her shoulder and motioning to Marcus.  
  
"I found it when I was cleaning the blood off," she explained, hands tracing over the scars lightly. "I swear to God, they must have carved it into him several times. It's taking too long to heal. But I don't know what it is, what it symbolizes-"  
  
"Holy shit."  
  
The soft exclamation from Marcus stopped her brief babbling. Green eyes narrowed as her head snapped in his direction. The Watcher looked paler than before, blue eyes wide in fear and shock.  
  
"You know it?" she prompted. Marcus shook his head erratically, gulping rather visibly.  
  
"I have to call Mr. Giles. Right now."  
  
*****  
  
**Hogwarts Express**  
  
Ronald Weasley couldn't help but be worried.  
  
His green eyes went back and forth between his two best friends, both seated rather quietly across from him in their compartment. Neither had said much during the train ride thus far. Actually, neither of them had said much at all since he had met up with them two days ago at the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
Harry was broodier than usual, but then again, he had good reason to be. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back, and most likely gunning for Harry. Having someone like the Dark Lord after you was hard enough, but even more difficult since hardly anyone believed him.  
  
Ron still couldn't believe the absolute refusal of the Ministry of Magic to acknowledge HIS return. His own Dad was quite vocal about it, defending Harry's word on what happened during the Triwizard Competition. But Minister Fudge refused to be moved on the topic. The wizard was just so scared of even the mention of You-Know-Who to ever able to accept his return.  
  
And so everyone did nothing. And Harry stewed about it.  
  
But Hermione, well, there was something bothering her. Something she wasn't telling any of them about. Harry barely noticed, so lost in his own world, but even he acknowledged that there was something up with their friend. But Hermione would not tell them what was wrong.  
  
He felt so incredibly out of the loop, there were no words for it. Ron couldn't hold it against his friends, knowing there had to be a really good reason for both of their behaviour. But he wanted to help them. And he couldn't do that unless they told him what was wrong.  
  
Ron sighed, turning his eyes to out his window. Something was very off this year. Something was very wrong.  
  
But he couldn't quite put his finger on what.  
  
*****  
  
Draco sat stewing in his compartment, barely listening to his friends as they babbled on about him. His mind kept drifting to one thing. The Golden Trio.  
  
He couldn't care less about Potter or Weasley, and usually didn't give a damn about Granger. But he had seen her standing on the platform before they all boarded the train. There was something in her eyes, a haunted look on her face. And right then Draco knew.  
  
Granger felt it too. ***** 


	6. Part Five

Title: Black As Midnight  
  
Author: eena_angel2001  
  
Email: igrewal@sfu.ca or eena_angel@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: R  
  
Category: HP/BTVS/ATS  
  
Pairing: Willow/Oliver Wood, Dawn/Draco, Faith/Sirius Black, Fred/Remus Lupin, Should I bother with a Buffy pairing?  
  
Disclaimer: Rowlings owns HP. Whedon owns BTVS.  
  
Spoilers: Up to Season Seven for BTVS, but before Willow comes back. GOF for HP.  
  
Summary: A new evil rises, transcending the line between Muggle and Wizarding Worlds, and forcing our heroes to join if they wish to survive.  
  
Notes: This is an AU Season Seven fic.  
  
1) Willow did not kill Warren, though Tara did die and she did go to England with Giles. Warren is not dead for this fic.  
  
2) Fred and Gunn never dated in this fic.  
  
3) Anya is not a vengeance demon for this fic.  
  
4) I must point out again that there will be reference to evil things Willow has done. But that does not refer to her trying to end the world. It refers to her actions up until "Wrecked", Season 6, which remain the same as they did in the show.  
  
Part Five  
  
***Sunnydale, USA***  
  
"Well, if it isn't the man who left me at the altar."  
  
Xander stopped in his tracks, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the declaration. But he restrained himself, knowing fully that he deserved whatever barbs Anya had for him. Any time and anyplace.  
  
Just not today.  
  
"Anya, pack your stuff up," he ordered, not even bothering to rise to the bait. She looked angry, primed to fight, but they didn't have the time.  
  
"Excuse me?" Anya looked a bit indignant. "You come strolling into my shop, after all you've done, and just expect me to follow orders-"  
  
"They're Buffy's orders," he interrupted, raising a hand for peace. "Anya, I know I hurt you and I deserve a hell of a lot worse words for what I did, but we don't have the time. There's something going on, something very big. We have to get to England."  
  
"England?" Anya repeated, face losing the irritation from before. "Why England?"  
  
"Because Giles said we would be safe there," Xander explained, coming to stand behind her at the register. "So grab your things, grab money, and whatever else you'll need. I've got this list of books Giles wanted-"  
  
"Wait a minute!" Anya shook herself, glaring at him in mistrust. "We are not going anywhere until you explain what big bad is on its way."  
  
"We don't know," he confessed, mentally cursing Buffy for sending him to collect the former demon. The Slayer wouldn't have had to do so much convincing to get Anya to listen to her. But no, Buffy couldn't be drawn away from her phone and conferences with Angel and Giles. The former who was now on his way over to Sunnydale with his entire staff (two people at the moment), a green demon they had collected from Las Vegas, and a son.  
  
Buffy was having problems with the son bit.  
  
"You don't know," Anya repeated icily. "You don't know what it is, but you expect me to get into a frenzy over-"  
  
"Anya please!" Xander exclaimed, hanging his head. "Something really bad is happening. Buffy and Dawn have had dreams, Willow and some girl named Fred have had bad feelings. Hell, Faith is in the bad vibes business as well. And Giles is telling us someone is killing Watchers and Travers is dead, Spike was being tortured and now Willow's looking after him. There's a whole bunch of panic going on about some black mark on Spike's back and did I mention all the disappearing Slayers in Training? So could you just take my word on this and please just hurry!"  
  
She seemed quieted at his outburst, looking deep into his eyes for some sort of answer. He kept her gaze evenly, letting all his fears and concerns over the situation flood into his eyes, something to get her to understand. And thankfully, she did.  
  
Anya nodded, slowly coming out from behind the register and escorting him to the books.  
  
"Thank you," he sighed in relief, following her. She nodded absently, stopping in her tracks to turn around and look at him in curiosity.  
  
"You said something about a black mark?"  
  
"Yeah," Xander shrugged. "Somebody carved it into Spike's back. Black mark or dark spot or something, I don't remember."  
  
Anya's eyes went wide as she stepped closer to him.  
  
"Xander," she started off slowly, voice carrying a tinge of panic. "Did Giles say Black mark or Dark Mark?"  
  
He paused, thinking it over.  
  
"Dark Mark," he replied finally. "Yeah, that's it. Dark Mark, Giles definitely said- Anya, what's wrong?"  
  
The former demon had sunk down into a chair, eyes wide with fear. She looked up at him with panic on her face, jumping to her feet mere seconds after she had taken a seat.  
  
"We have to hurry!"  
  
"Anya, what-"  
  
"I'll explain later!" she shrieked impatiently, pushing him towards the books. "You get the books, I'll get my stuff. But we have to hurry! You were right Xander, this is bad. Very very bad."  
  
*****  
  
***London, England***  
  
"I want every single last Watcher and Slayer in Training recalled immediately!"  
  
Marcus flinched under the harshness in Giles's tone. The young Watcher licked his dry lips, watching his co-workers split into groups to carry out the orders. No one questioned a thing, Giles was assumed to have authority now. Quentin had all but given it to him with his last words and actions.  
  
But they were all a bit iffy on his orders.  
  
"There are thousands," one of the older Watchers protested. "How can we just tell them to-"  
  
"Because I say so!" Giles barked, cutting the man off. "I don't care what it takes, do you hear me? I want every single last Watcher on the face of the planet here within a week! All the Slayers in Training as well! No one is to be left unaccounted for. Fax them, email them, call them, or go get them personally, but get them here!"  
  
And with that, everyone was off running again. Marcus made to leave, stopping when Giles called for him.  
  
"I need you to get these to Mary," he ordered, handing him two envelopes. "One goes to the school, the other to the Ministry. She knows how."  
  
"What about Miss Rosenburg?" Marcus ventured timidly. That stopped Giles in his tracks. The man took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose for a second before replying.  
  
"She will be fine with Spike," Giles finally determined. "He won't hurt her. And she's more than capable of defending herself against anyone that would try anything. If she needs anything, she'll give us a ring. Until then, don't worry about Willow. Just grab a list of Watchers and get on the phone."  
  
Marcus nodded, clutching the two envelopes to his chest as he hurried to Mary's desk. Behind him, Giles sank into his desk chair with his head in his hands. The man was feeling his age more than ever right now. He felt tired, tired and scared. Not a good mix in a leader during a crisis.  
  
Giles sighed, straigtening and reaching for the phone. He had to call Buffy, let her know what was going to happen. The Slayer needed to be brought to safety just as badly as the others. But he was well aware Buffy had some loose ends to tie up before she could up and leaved for England.  
  
After all, there still was the whole matter of Faith to deal with.  
  
*****  
  
**Giles Manor**  
  
Willow sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly. She needed to get some sleep, badly. There was no way she could keep going in her current condition. And the redhead knew she was going to have to be in top form for whatever was coming. All this business of a Dark Mark and some people called Death Eaters killing Watchers wasn't adding up to anything good at all. The redhead witch should get her butt into bed so she could at least be somewhat helpful later on.  
  
But she couldn't just rest now. Spike was still awake, in pain, and in a panic. She had finally finished dressing all his wounds, knowing that with the blood in him, he was making his way to being better. But he wasn't taking that much blood just yet. Still too injured and hurt to take much of it in. He was sick, there was no doubt of that, and the only thing that could make him better he couldn't handle much of.  
  
The redhead shifted her position of sitting on the floor. She hadn't bother to move Spike from the couch, feeling entirely too tired to do it on her own. Marcus had fled right after muttering stuff about the Dark Mark on Spike's back, and probably wouldn't have ventured close enough to Spike to help her in the first place. Giles was still busy at the Council, calling every now and then to give her updates. That's how she knew about the Death Eaters and Dark Mark business, though she felt she was getting the abbreviated version.  
  
She was tired and sore, her butt felt numb. Stupid little grievances, but ones that were bothering the hell out of her. She didn't like this fear of something unknown. She didn't like the way the Watchers kept freaking out and explaining very little. She hated feeling like she couldn't do anything until she was given the okay. And she especially hated that someone had done something to Spike and she couldn't be sure that they weren't on their way to finish the job.  
  
"I tried to . . . tried . . ."  
  
Her head snapped up, looking at Spike in confusion as the vampire began muttering again. He did a lot of that, some of it useful but others just nonsensical garbage she couldn't understand.  
  
"Tried what Spike?" she ventured softly. The vampire closed his eyes, chest heaving as he shook his violently.  
  
"It's inside here," he rasped. "It hurts me, and I let it. I tried to . . I tried so hard . . . I shouldn't have . . ."  
  
"Spike," she murmured, going up to her knees so she could look down at his face. Her hand went to the side of his head, stroking his hair in what she hoped was a soothing motion. His eyes opened and he looked at her with tear-filled eyes.  
  
"William hates being a bad boy," he whispered. She frowned, eyebrows knitting together.  
  
"What-"  
  
"William hates hurting the girl," the vampire sobbed, trying to curl up into a fetal position on the couch. Willow was shocked when he balled his hand up into a fist and struck himself.  
  
"Spike!" she cried in alarm.  
  
"William hates hurting the girl!" the vampire repeated with sobs. "But I always hurt the girl. I deserve the hurt, but William doesn't. But we're one in here now, with nothing left to separate us. William hurts for what I did . . . I'm sorry but I can't make it up to him . . . I tried to escape so he wouldn't have to feel the hurt . . . but they kept us there, when only I should have been there."  
  
"Spike," Willow was near a panic, coming to understanding very slowly. "Spike, you couldn't have . . . Your soul? "  
  
Suddenly he jumped upright, gripping the witch hard by the arms.  
  
"They wanted to know about the girls," Spike stuttered. "But I wouldn't tell them . . . William doesn't want them to hurt the girls . . . I don't either, but they're going to . . . Have to save the girls!"  
  
"What girls?" Willow demanded, mind racing with the revelations the vampire was making.  
  
"He wants all the girls!" Spike roared. "All the girls . . . all the ones meant for the rest . . . all those who die for the rest . . . He wants them, and all others who see, mostly girls, one or two boys, but all innocents . . . He wants them, wants to use them. You have to protect the girls!"  
  
"I will!" Willow swore blindly, catching some of his meaning. "It's the Slayers in Training isn't it? They're the girls!"  
  
Spike nodded, slowly easing himself down onto the couch. Willow gave a bit of a squeal when he pulled her along with him. The vampire nestled her next to him, looking at her with haunted eyes.  
  
"I know he wants the girls," the vampire told her quietly. "But I don't know why."  
  
"We'll find out," she promised quickly.  
  
"All those girls . . ."  
  
"We'll protect them,"  
  
"But he'll save you for last."  
  
That made her stop dead still. Confused green eyes went to his blue ones.  
  
"What?" she asked in a disbelieving tone.  
  
"He'll save you for last," the vampire repeated, turning his face away from her and closing his eyes.  
  
"Red was a bad girl once. And he liked it."  
  
***** 


	7. Part Six

Part Six  
  
***Somewhere over the Atlantic***  
  
He honestly wondered why all these bad things just kept on happening to him.  
  
Now, he was well aware that some people that it worse. He himself had been spared the bad vibes/dreams that had been affecting his friends and other people. And that was something he was grateful for, because looking at those clued into the evil feeling vibes, he could tell it was hell on them. All three girls, Buffy, Dawn, and this Fred girl, looked tired and haunted. Dawn was forever biting her lip, something she must have picked up from Willow. Buffy was going at the punching bag like there was no tomorrow, and this Fred girl, well she just plain pale in the face and shaking almost constantly. He knew they had it bad, even worse than him.  
  
But it didn't stop him from lamenting the situation he had been stuck in. Groaning inwardly at the thought, Xander shifted in his seat, looking across the aisle at the girls seated in the middle.  
  
They were on a plane to England, with the exception of Buffy, Angel, Gunn, their green demon friend, and Cordelia, because she was missing. The LA crew had made their arrival in Sunnydale the day after Xander had collected Anya. Angel had made the plane reservations ahead of time, booking the flight for the five of them.  
  
And who would that five be, you might wonder? Well, it was him, Dawn, Anya, Fred, and Connor, Angel's kid. Angel had a kid, can you believe it? Xander wasn't aware that was even possible. In fact, he knew it wasn't possible, and yet, there he was. All possible and the such.  
  
Buffy had insisted on them going, to meet with Giles like the man had instructed a day or two ago. Xander wasn't sure when. With all the fear and activity as of late, the days were just kind of melting into one another. He was very tired but entirely too wound up to do anything about it.  
  
He looked back across the aisle, seeing the three girls seated there. Dawn was still pouting, leaning her head on Anya's shoulder as she glared into nothingness. The youngest Summers had not appreciated being sent off while her sister remained in the line of fire. But Buffy had put her foot down. And when the Slayer puts her foot down, there isn't much room left to argue about it.  
  
Besides, Buffy needed to stay in the States at least until they had come up with a solution to the whole Faith situation. It was agreed that they could not just leave the Slayer in a prison cell where whoever was obviously coming could get at her no problem. And there was the odd chance that they would need Faith's help in the end. Buffy had been sceptical to the notion that Faith could do any good, but Angel had held firm. And for once, the two didn't argue about it. They knew that either way, Faith was coming out. They just didn't know how yet.  
  
Anya was a nervous wreck. The Dark Mark business had scared the shit out of the former demon. And once she had explained to him why, Xander couldn't really blame her for it. After all, this Voldemort guy sounded like real bad news. And just the thought that he could kill a person with just a flick of his wrist and few mumbled words, well, that didn't sit well with Xander either. As well, the guy seemed to be just plain sadistic as well. Anya had gone off to Memory Lane, dragging up everything she could remember of the guy. And all the stuff she had seen firsthand. It had been horrible to say the least.  
  
Fred, well, he didn't really know Fred well enough to know what the girl was thinking. He had heard her story from Angel and Gunn, something that made him feel infinitely sorry for the girl. Five years in a world where humans were treated like beasts of burden? He couldn't imagine what she had been through. And what was going on with her now. Angel mentioned the things she had said. Stuff like the earth being poisoned and all living things withering away into death. It sent chills up his spine, way worse than when he had heard about Buffy and Dawn's vibes and dreams. Murder and death is one thing, but poison in the very earth? That was something new for him.  
  
Xander gave another sigh, turning away from the girls to glance at the figure sitting rather stubbornly next to him. Connor, Angel's boy, had not been happy about being sent on this trip. He also hated it when his father had hunted him down and dragged him to Sunnydale. Connor refused to go at first. In fact, he had tried to physically repulse the notion of it, but against Angel and Buffy, he stood no real chance. There was some bad blood going on between the boy and the LA crew. Something very very bad, involving an underwater coffin. Xander hadn't really wanted details about it.  
  
But the Council, meaning Giles, Buffy, and Deadboy had agreed that having Connor run about on his own at a time like this would not be a good idea. Same reasoning behind sending Dawn away applied to the boy. Whatever was out there, and whatever it had to do with this Voldemort guy, should not have the chance to get at a magically prophecized baby or a mystical ball of energy turned human. The two teenagers were entirely too magical, full of too much power, to just be left so unprotected. They had to go to the Council, to seek whatever protection they had to offer.  
  
And Giles had offered them a hell of a lot of protection. The Watcher had assured them all that he had found the safest place for them. He just needed to get confirmation before he could send them. And anyway, they had to wait on all the Slayers in Training to be brought to London as well. Xander had been stunned to hear that Giles had recalled all the Watchers to London, a desperate move no doubt. It didn't make him feel any better about the whole situation in the least. Xander had the sinking feeling that all of this was way over their heads.  
  
But back to why it sucked to be him at the moment. It really did suck to be him. Apparently, whatever Connor had done to Angel had made Fred very angry. So angry to the point where she wouldn't even look at the boy. So that meant that having her keep an eye on him was totally out of the question.  
  
Guess who the job fell to then?  
  
Xander sighed, shifting in his seat again. He did not like the idea of being responsible for Angel's kid. Given his own track record with Deadboy you'd think that Angel would also be against it. But no, Xander had been ordered to watch over the magic not-so-much-a-baby-anymore not only by the vampire, but by Buffy herself. So he was stuck, guarding this boy that apparently hated everyone even remotely associated with his father. And even though Xander may dislike his father more than Connor did, the boy was not being very social.  
  
Xander couldn't help but think that it would end badly.  
  
***  
  
***Hogwarts, England***  
  
"It's happening Minerva."  
  
Minerva McGonagall sighed, hanging her head a bit. There was fear in her heart now, much greater than the one she had been harbouring before. In the summer time, it had been in anticipation of what the Dark Lord would do next. And now, it was outright fear of what it seemed like he was doing.  
  
"But why them?" she asked tearfully. "Why those girls? The Slayers have nothing to do with our World. They are Muggles, creatures destined for the Muggle World and that world alone. What does he seek to gain Albus?"  
  
Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, could only shake his head in confusion.  
  
"I have no idea what he means to do," the professor revealed with a sigh. "But it cannot be good for anyone, Muggle or Wizard alike. He is planning something much larger than before."  
  
"What are we going to do?" Professor McGonagall asked in the same tearful tone as before.  
  
"First, we begin by agreeing to this letter," he replied, waving the parchment in his right hand. "We must work together with the Council if we are to have any hope of stopping this."  
  
"But, will we have enough room?" McGonagall asked nervously. "I mean, there are so many of them."  
  
"We will make room," Dumbledore dismissed. "Worry not about those little details Minerva. Our real problem lays with the Ministry and Cornelius Fudge. I have no doubt that even in light of all these occurances he will deny the very idea of Voldemort's return. He will dismiss it as a Watcher's problem, nothing for the Wizarding World to be involved in."  
  
"How could he deny any of it?" McGonagall demanded. "There are Death Eaters out there in the Muggle World, hunting these people down. Their problems are our problems."  
  
"And I agree with you completely in that respect," Dumbledore assured her. "If Cornelius cannot be moved on the subject, then I fear we will have to go around him."  
  
"Around him?" McGonagall repeated.  
  
"Yes," Dumbledore affirmed. "If Fudge refuses to act, then the Council and I will have no choice but to turn to the Aurors and other Ministry leaders. We have no time for Fudge's fears and delusions, things must be done, and done quickly."  
  
"What are we to tell the students?"  
  
"The truth," he replied without a blink. "I will not hide from them the very real horrors going on outside. They need to be alert and ready."  
  
"But the Slytherins-"  
  
"Must be given a fair chance," Dumbledore finished for her. "We will see where their loyalties lie. Do not fear Minerva, even if they turn out to be the very thing we feared, they will not be a threat. Hogwarts will not fall to Voldemort. It did not in the past, and it will not now."  
  
McGonagall nodded, watching quietly as Dumbledore moved to attach a post to an owl, the one that had arrived with the request in the first place.  
  
"But first things first," Dumbledore stated firmly. "We must ready the school. Our guests should be arriving in mere days."  
  
***  
  
***Giles Manor, England***  
  
"He said he would save me for last."  
  
Giles groaned, shutting his eyes and putting a hand to his forehead. It never rains, it pours.  
  
"This person, this Voldemort guy," Willow pushed, ignoring his noise of frustration. "He's after the Slayers and apparently after me. Now tell me Giles, what the hell is going on?"  
  
"I don't know," Giles revealed. "We know it has something to do with the Death Eaters, and with Voldemort, but not like it was in the past. There is something different this time, something far more sinister than before."  
  
"Why would he take Spike?" Willow broke in. "Why like this? He has his soul now, he couldn't very well help him. And besides, Spike hates working for other people."  
  
"Well, Spike did say they asked him about the Slayers in Training," Giles mused, looking down at the sleeping vampire on his couch. "Perhaps he thought he could extract information from him."  
  
"But they would have gotten more information from a Watcher," Willow disagreed. "I mean, they killed like what, six? Why didn't they take one as prisoner to ask about the Slayer? After all, you guys are the living experts on the subject. It's kind of your job to be."  
  
"Well, yes," Giles nodded, offering a faint smile to the redhead. "It would seem more logical to take one of us-"  
  
"So what does Spike know about Slayers that makes him so important?" Willow demanded. Giles stilled, eyes widening.  
  
"He's killed two," the man whispered. "And he's worked alongside Buffy for many years now. If you wanted information on Buffy and her weaknesses, who else would you go to for information?"  
  
Willow tensed, sending a panicked look Spike's way.  
  
"He said he escaped," she murmured. "Meaning that they probably weren't done with him at that point."  
  
"No," Giles agreed. "They probably weren't."  
  
Willow reached out, stroking some blonde hair away from the vampire's forehead.  
  
"When he recovers, we could have a better idea of what's going on," Willow mused. "We should take him with us."  
  
Giles froze at that, looking at Willow sharply.  
  
"Do you know how hard it would be to convince them to let a vampire on grounds?" he demanded.  
  
"Spike has a chip," Willow reminded him. "And a soul. I doubt he would be a threat to anyone. And besides Giles, you know I'm right."  
  
Giles sighed, dropping his head into his hands. She was right, Spike would be better off with Willow than anywhere else. And if the enemy was indeed still after him . . . they wouldn't be able to get their hands on him in there.  
  
"Very well," Giles sighed. "I will write to the Headmaster and ask for permission to bring Spike along. I can make no guarantees though Willow."  
  
Willow nodded, taking her seat by the sleeping Spike.  
  
"Well, we have to try at least, don't we?"  
  
***** 


	8. Part Seven

Part Seven  
  
***Hogwarts, England***  
  
The year was starting off awfully quiet. Too quiet for his liking.  
  
Yes, there was the usual cheer of starting off the new school year,  
  
friends meeting up once again after a long summer away. There was a  
  
bit of anticipation as well, for the what next year had to hold.  
  
But it was still quiet. Everything was hushed, as if people were to  
  
afraid to speak their thoughts out loud. Too afraid to rejoice for  
  
fear that something would come and rip it away if they weren't  
  
careful. Overall, they were all just a bit afraid.  
  
The teachers weren't helping any. They were all just as subdued as  
  
their students, which in turn subdued the students even more for they  
  
felt like their teachers were despairing. The fear was feeding  
  
itself, not too big right now, but growing as time went on. Everyone  
  
knew this year wasn't going to be like the rest, nothing would be  
  
like it was before. Things had changed in their world, and not for  
  
the better.  
  
Voldemort was back. They all acknowledged it, but no one dared to  
  
say it. He was back, the monster was back. That wizard they had all  
  
learned to fear since the day they were born was back. And with  
  
Harry Potter back at Hogwarts, everyone had a pretty good idea where  
  
HE would show up next.  
  
Harry sighed, trying to ignore the fearful looks around him.  
  
Hermione noticed his discomfort, one of the rare times she was able  
  
to come out of the fog she had been in since they met at the Leaky  
  
Cauldron, and shot him a reassuring smile. He tried to return it,  
  
but it came out as a grimace. Hermione was another thing that was  
  
bothering him, him and Ron that is. Their friend was quiet,  
  
withdrawn, not even raising to the bait of many of Ron's jokes. She  
  
hadn't even cracked open a book yet, instead sitting silently, lost  
  
in her thoughts. Harry wasn't sure what she was thinking about, but  
  
he knew it wasn't good. Hermione looked a bit paler than usual, a  
  
haunting look passing over her features far too often for his  
  
liking. He wanted to know what was bothering his friend. He wanted  
  
to know now.  
  
But she wasn't telling. Not anyone, though all had noticed. Hell,  
  
even Malfoy had noticed, sending the girl a few curious looks of his  
  
own. Malfoy was another problem. Harry felt like he had something  
  
to do with Hermione's distraction. Because other than the few  
  
curious looks on his face, Draco held something else on his features  
  
when regarding Hermione. Understanding. Malfoy knew what was  
  
bothering his friend, or least he thought he knew. Harry didn't like  
  
that one bit.  
  
He gave another sigh, shooting a worried look Ron's way. The redhead  
  
shrugged, his eyes going to the once again silent Hermione. The girl  
  
didn't notice his attention, focusing on moving her food listlessly  
  
around her plate.  
  
Harry swallowed a growl of frustration, resisting the urge to demand  
  
answers. Instead, he looked helplessly towards the staff table,  
  
seeking Dumbledore with his eyes. He passed over the faces of Snape,  
  
Sprout, McGonagall, and Oliver Wood (apparently the Hogwarts graduate  
  
had come back to take over Madame Hooch's duties at the school while  
  
the woman dealt with some family issues elsewhere) before reaching  
  
Dumbledore.  
  
He didn't like the look on Dumbledore's face. The professor sat  
  
there, contemplative and generally withdrawn, almost like Hermione.  
  
He wasn't looking around the Great Hall, fixing students with grins  
  
and that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. No, Dumbledore seemed  
  
preoccupied with something else.  
  
Harry turned his eyes back to his plate, frowning at the food there.  
  
Nothing was normal this year, everything was off.  
  
And he didn't think it was going to get any better.  
  
*****  
  
***London, England***  
  
"We're going where?"  
  
Willow sighed, shooting a sympathetic look Giles's way as the Watcher  
  
attempted to explain the situation to a newly arrived batch of  
  
Slayers-In-Training. The girls, coming from a range of ages, were  
  
frightened, agitated, and sometimes, surly. And poor Giles had to  
  
deal with all of them.  
  
"Come," he motioned to the brunette standing in front of him. "I  
  
have books and such in my office that can show you exactly where  
  
we're going. And trust me when I say, no matter what you think of  
  
it, it is the safest place for you girls right now."  
  
And with that, he was leading the girl away. Willow watched him go,  
  
amusedly watching his resigned face. Poor Giles.  
  
Rasping from her side drew her attention away from the Watcher and to  
  
her charge. The redhead startled, springing to action as Spike began  
  
to cough harshly.  
  
She was quick to get an arm around him, helping him into an upright  
  
position. Though he was better than before, Spike was still too weak  
  
to move much of his own accord. The blood they had been feeding was  
  
slowly taking affect, the vampire beginning to fill out his drawn  
  
features once more, but all the wounds were far from healing. And  
  
the mark on his back, it wasn't going anywhere for a little while.  
  
"You okay?" she murmured in his ear, relief flooding over her at his  
  
nod. But he was still coughing, so she propped him up best she could  
  
before reached for the blood she had ready on the coffee table. It  
  
was rather amazing that the Watcher's Council had agreed to let Spike  
  
stay at their headquarters, but they had no choice in the end.  
  
Whatever was coming, Spike was integral, and they didn't want to lose  
  
him just yet.  
  
Bringing a mug of blood to his lips, Willow shook her head,  
  
marvelling at the similarities this situation had to the one of her  
  
freshman year at UC Sunnydale. Both times had her taking care of  
  
Spike in lieu of the information he could possibly provide them with  
  
on the latest big bad. Only this time, Spike wasn't chained, and she  
  
actually cared what happened to him. She was the only one to watch  
  
him, not trusting the any of the others not to just abandon him after  
  
a while. The Watchers, though allowing him in here, were still far  
  
too weary of the vampire to venture near him for that long.  
  
"Is he doing better?"  
  
The soft voice from behind her didn't startle the witch in the  
  
least. She turned her head, sending a smile Dawn's way as the  
  
younger Summers settled down next to the redhead. Her blue eyes were  
  
trained on Spike, worry and confusion there. Willow understood the  
  
mix of feelings. It was Spike, but Spike with a soul, and as of yet,  
  
they couldn't tell what kind of difference the soul was making on him.  
  
"He's better, but not good yet," Willow shrugged, moving a bit so  
  
Dawn get a better view of the vampire. Spike's eyes lit up with  
  
recognition and he tried to lift his hand in a bit of a half wave.  
  
Dawn just smiled, grasping the hand in her own and patting it in  
  
reassurance.  
  
"You'll be good as new in time," the teenager promised him. "We're  
  
going to see to that."  
  
"It's a damn good thing that those people agreed to allow him in  
  
their school," Willow muttered tiredly. "I hate to think what we  
  
would have done then. We're running out of safe places to hide."  
  
"Tell me about it," Dawn murmured, watching as Spike finished his  
  
blood and drifted back into sleep. "What's going on Willow?"  
  
The redhead shrugged, settling down on the floor next to Spike's  
  
couch and leaning her head against the vampire's arm.  
  
"I don't know," she answered truthfully. "All I know is that there's  
  
this really bad guy, with his band of evil flunkies, that's running  
  
around killing Slayers-In-Training and Watchers, in an attempt to  
  
accomplish something. What he's trying to do, Lord knows."  
  
"This school," Dawn began. "We will be safe there, right?"  
  
"As safe as we can get," Willow replied, closing her tired eyes a  
  
bit. "We'll find out, won't we?"  
  
"Not really all that inspiring Willow," the teenager giggled. The  
  
redhead felt a ghost of a smile come over her features.  
  
"Yeah, but it's realistic. And no matter how disheartening it is,  
  
we're going to have to face facts. We will be safe there, but we  
  
can't expect that to hold. These guys, they're coming Dawnie. And  
  
if we don't accept that, they're going to kill us all."  
  
*****  
  
***Sunnydale, California***  
  
"I just don't see why we need her out."  
  
Angel sighed, exchanging a look with Gunn. The dark man just  
  
shrugged his shoulders, going back to assessing weapons and leaving  
  
Angel to deal with Buffy.  
  
"We need all the help we can get," the vampire finally  
  
answered. "And if that means we have to get Faith out, we're getting  
  
Faith out."  
  
"But we don't know for sure that she can help," Buffy muttered  
  
darkly. "I know you think she's changed Angel, but can we even take  
  
the risk? What if she hasn't changed all that much? What if the  
  
bitch screws us over like she did last time?"  
  
"First of all, she has changed," Angel grounded out, anger washing  
  
over him briefly. "I'm not getting back into that with you. Faith  
  
is in jail willing, not because she got caught, but because she felt  
  
like she deserved to be there. She's trying to find her way back,  
  
though its going to be difficult. I know what that's like, and I get  
  
that she might not be ready, but we have no choice. Whoever these  
  
guys are, they're killing potential Slayers for now. Once they  
  
realize that Giles hid all the potentials, they're going to head  
  
straight for the real ones. And Faith is a sitting duck in jail."  
  
Buffy pursed her lips, trying hard not to pout at the concern Angel  
  
was showing for the rogue Slayer. Her mind was racing with different  
  
feelings, most of them hatred. She hated Faith, she didn't want the  
  
psycho out. In fact, if someone did go after her in jail, Buffy  
  
wouldn't mind it one bit. Faith deserved what she got.  
  
But on the other hand, Angel was right. Whoever the hell was doing  
  
all this crap wanted all the Slayers dead. And letting him get even  
  
one more victim was just helping him along the way. While killing  
  
Faith would ultimately just lead to another Slayer being called, it  
  
wouldn't help their side all that much. They needed a trained Slayer  
  
not someone new to the whole deal. If it came down to it, they  
  
needed a good fighter on their hands, and Faith was good at being a  
  
Slayer.  
  
"Fine," the blonde muttered. "We'll get her out. But I'm not going  
  
to like it. I will tolerate her and needed her help, but I'm not  
  
changing my mind on her that easily. There's nothing you can say  
  
that will make me like the idea of freeing Faith. But I'll work with  
  
it."  
  
Angel sighed, nodding in relief.  
  
"That's all I ask for."  
  
*****  
  
***Hogwarts, England***  
  
"May I have your attention please?"  
  
Draco started at the sound of Dumbledore's voice, ringing out across  
  
the Great Hall. Dinner was over, people had been sorted, and  
  
everyone was getting ready to leave. But at the Headmaster's  
  
request, they all stilled and settled back in their seats.  
  
Curious, Draco trained his eyes on Dumbledore, wondering what the man  
  
had to say.  
  
"I'm sure you all realize that feelings are running a bit tense  
  
lately," the Headmaster started. "There are those who accept  
  
Voldemort's return and prepare for it while others try to hide from  
  
it. Either way, it cannot be ignored much longer. Voldemort has  
  
returned and he has begun something that none of us can comprehend."  
  
Frightened whispers started up around the Hall, most eyes going  
  
immediately to Harry at the Gryffindor table. Draco snorted at that,  
  
knowing that Harry wasn't the issue here.  
  
"For the protection of all of us, and the protection of innocent  
  
lives, we will be having guests staying at the school this year,"  
  
Dumbledore continued. "They will begin arriving tomorrow, and  
  
continue for some time after that. Know that though these guests are  
  
Muggles, they are anything but ordinary."  
  
"Muggles?" Draco heard Pansy repeat in disgust. "What kind of  
  
extraordinary Muggles could he be bringing in here?"  
  
As if he heard her question, Dumbledore turned his eyes to the  
  
Slytherin table before continuing.  
  
"By tomorrow, the first of the Potential Slayers and their Watchers  
  
will be arriving. And by the end of the week, we hope to have both  
  
active Slayers among us."  
  
A collective gasp went up from all the students, and whispering began  
  
in earnest once more. But this time, it was done in more excitement  
  
than anything else. Draco shook his head, thinking he must have  
  
heard wrong. Dumbledore was bringing the Slayer to Hogwarts?  
  
The Headmaster only smiled, the twinkle back in his eye as he sat  
  
down again. And Draco knew it was all true.  
  
The Slayers were coming to Hogwarts.  
  
***** 


End file.
